Stress Relief
by absurdwords
Summary: Snape has to cope with lots of stress. Sometimes, he needs to unwind
1. Friday

My sincere apologies to J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any money out of torturing her characters.

Friday

Severus Snape picked up smoking again in June 1995 after he'd quit for three days. Note the date. It's not a coincidence. Voldemort couldn't have had worse timing to return. Severus decided then that quitting bad habits when he could die any day was futile. Life sucked in general and a man should have a few pleasures in his life. Speaking of his life, there were many things Severus had done he regretted now. Like getting those tattoos, for example. The one with the snake and the skull on his left forearm and the one with the heart that said 'Severus + Evan forever' on his right shoulder. That day, however, there was nothing he regretted as much as saying to Pomona Sprout that she should keep an eye on what her NEWT students were growing in the greenhouses. Getting rid of any source of free mind-altering substances is a bad idea if you have to teach Defense against the Dark Arts to fourth-year Gryffindors. The sobbing girl who clung to his robes when he demonstrated the Killing Curse was the last straw. He had to suffer the sixth-year Gryffindors before that and that annoying swot Granger had pestered him after classes about 'extra coursework'. He'd given her a book about Cornish Pixies. A challenging subject matter indeed. That should teach her.

When Severus thought he could finally curl up with a tome on some obscure hexes and a glass of brandy, he got an owl from Narcissa, the seventeenth one that week. Why had he made that Unbreakable Vow? To make things even worse, all the brandy was gone and so was the Firewhiskey, the Pastis, the Snackardi Sneezers, the Suddoff Frostbites, the ale and the wine. When he was smoking the last cigarette in his packet, he decided he had to find I something /I . It couldn't be possible that there was nothing to smoke, swallow, inhale or inject in Hogwarts. It was a boarding school, which meant it was full of teenagers, after all.

There weren't only teenagers; there were also his colleagues, but after the incidents with Rubeus' Super Space Treacle Tart in 1991 (which resulted in nasty bite wounds from Fluffy – he shouldn't have promised him to feed that fucking monster), Filius' Advanced Cheering Charms in 1992 (when he agreed to help Lockhart with his duelling club) and Albus' Acid Pops in 1993 (when he consented to teaching Occlumency to Harry), he didn't feel like trying any substances from staff members again in his lifetime, even though Minerva waxed lyrical about the Firewhiskey her uncle brewed. No, he had to find something different and his colleagues must not see him while under influence, because they invariably took advantage of it.

The Half-Blood Prince had to think about how to get a safe, legal and finite trip to heaven? Angrily, he surveyed his meticulously-ordered shelves. Dried snake eyes, pickled toad, newt juice, … Toads could be used for making drugs. He'd tried that before. Fifteen minutes of work, thirty-five minutes of utter bliss. And pretty harmless, both for himself and the toad, and not ministry-restricted (because those fuckwits didn't know about this use for toads.) The only problem was: he needed a living specimen. Unfortunately, his impatience with anything that breathed and moved prevented him from keeping one in his office, but this was Hogwarts. Toads were one of the few animal species students were allowed to keep as pets in this school. There must be plenty of them in this castle. Now he only had to lay his hands on one. Longbottom! He had a toad! How could he catch that toad, preferably as soon as possible?

While Severus was pondering about an excuse to confiscate the toad, Horace Slughorn burst into his office.

"Severus, I wondered if you would join me for supper tomorrow evening!" the wizard cheerfully announced.

"I'm sorry, but I'll have to decline your invitation. I have…er … other obligations."

"That's a pity! My meeting don't attract the crowd they used to. Potter always has Quidditch-"

At that moment, Severus noticed the long, brown curly hair that had somehow got onto his desk and he had a plan.


	2. Saturday

My sincere apologies to J.K. Rowling. I'm not making any money out of torturing her characters.

Saturday

Neville sat in the Gryffindor common room, bent over his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework. Hermione came in, looking grumpy and wearing robes that did not seem to fit.

"I thought you had supper with Slughorn," Neville said.

"I told him I felt ill. I didn't feel like going to his meetings tonight," she answered.

"Now you're here anyway, I could use some help with this." Neville pointed at the book he was reading. Hermione's expression changed from grumpy to downright exasperated. "But if you don't feel like explaining all this to me right now," he stuttered," I could ask someone else."

"Er… No, I don't mind. It's no problem." She muttered.

Hermione behaved odd today. Maybe it was a girl thing. The passion in her voice when she explained the hexes to him was exuberant, even for Hermione, but when she was finished, he finally understood it. She could explain those things way better than Snape could.

"Neville," she said, "I need your help with something. It's for Potions."

"For Potions?" Neville asked incredulously, "but you know I don't take Potions anymore!"

"I wondered if I could have your toad."

"Oh no! There's no way you're going to put Trevor in a Po-"

"I just want to borrow him. You'll get him back tomorrow morning. Unharmed," she said.

"Well, if you say so." Neville shrugged. "What do you need him for anyway?"

"It's for…er… a special project," she stammered.

"Oh- What's up with your hair!" Hermione's hair had begun to darken and straighten all of a sudden.

"Never mind. I have to go. Can I have Trevor? Now?" Her face had turned bright pink.

"Yeah, sure." Neville handed her over the toad.

When Hermione sped out of the common room, he shrugged. Definitely that time of the month.

Back in his rooms, Severus was glad he could get out of the sloppily transfigured robes. It had been a close shave. The Polyjuice Potion had begun to wear off and he was nearly caught in the act – by Longbottom, of all people. Only now he realised that Granger and Longbottom were going to have a fight about that toad tonight, but he didn't care. He set to work, carefully harvesting the secretions from the animal's warts. He stirred them into the solution he had been preparing on forehand and too his hookah out of his cupboard. The mixture turned a bright pink after exactly seven and a half minutes. He put out the fire under the cauldron and dimmed the lights with a flick of his wand. Tonight was going to be great.


End file.
